Alex Kava - A Necessary Evil

"You taste good," he said. "Maybe we don't need the pizzas."

"The girls are starved." She turned and smiled at him, but there was something sad in her smile. Something was wrong.

"What's happened?"

When she put a finger to his lips to hush him, he knew it wasn't good.

"Angie's pretty upset," she told him, keeping her voice low and her eyes watching out over the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining room.

"Is she hurt?"

"No, no. It's nothing like that. She received a letter from Creighton today. She'll show it to you later. We should eat first, okay? Let her tell you about it in her own way. Don't push her."

"What kind of a letter?" But he already knew and there was a lump gathering in the pit of his stomach.

"They're rescinding her scholarship. Something about insufficient funds that they've only now become aware of."

"Insufficient funds. That's bullshit."

"Tommy." This time she placed a finger against her own lips.

He obeyed and kept his voice down, but the anger was still there. "You know what this is."

"We don't know that for certain."

His cell phone interrupted them and he wanted to rip it off his belt and throw it across the room, but he was expecting a call from Chief Ramsey.

"I've got to get this," he told her and she nodded, taking the pizza boxes to the dining room where he saw the table was already set "Pakula," he grunted into the phone.

"I got your message " Chief Ramsey said without a greeting. "I'm talking to Cunningham in an hour. Do you have any idea what this Father Michael Keller has for us?"

"He said he had the list of the priests being offed. Supposedly he thinks he has something else that could lead us to the killer, but he wouldn't spell it out to O'Dell until he knew he had a deal and until he was here in the States."

"She thinks he's on the level?"

"She thinks he's scared. He's on the list."

Ramsey was quiet and Pakula waited it out, watching Clare put ice in their glasses and pour the tea. There was something about the way she moved that had a calming effect on him.

"The shit is starting to hit the fan," Ramsey finally said, and it wasn't at all what Pakula had expected him to say. "My wife found out today that her grant for the hospital got canceled. She says it's a coincidence. I don't think so."

Pakula turned his back to Clare and the dining room and walked across the kitchen as far out of her hearing as possible. "My daughter's scholarship just got pulled. Insufficient funds."

"Jesus! You're kidding." There was a pause. "Well, we both knew this could happen."

"Yep, we did." Pakula kept it to himself that he didn't think the asshole would be able to do stuff like this or at least not this quickly. "He'll be shitting bullets if he hears what I found out this afternoon."

"What's that?"

"Seems the monsignor had a thing for little boys after all, and the archbishop knew all about it."

"Figures," Chief Ramsey said.

"Look, about this Keller guy making a deal with O'Dell. You think your buddy Cunningham is gonna have a hernia?"

"Not when I tell him we have five dead priests."

"Five?"

"Deputy Sheriff down in Santa Rosa County, Florida, just found one in the wetlands," Chief Ramsey explained. "May have been there for over a week. I'll have a copy of the autopsy report in the morning."

"And the fifth?"

"North Boston." This time Ramsey paused and Pakula could hear him shuffling papers. "Information's still coming in. Details are sketchy. If I understand correctly, it happened earlier today. This one's freaky, Pakula, and I can't help wondering if the killer is not only escalating but that he's starting to lose it." "How freaky?"

"The victim was a Father Paul Conley at Blessed Sacrament. His head was found on the altar."

Omaha, Nebraska

Gibson had managed to get a dark corner booth in Goldberg's Bar and Grill on Fiftieth and Dodge Streets. He didn't think he had an appetite, but he had ordered a cheeseburger and fries so that the waitress wouldn't mind him taking up a whole booth. Then it smelled so good that he started taking nibbles, and before he realized it he had it devoured, probably eating out of nervous energy more than hunger.

When he called his mom from the restaurant's pay phone she sounded hysterical, not because he had slipped out on her but because Brother Sebastian had convinced her Gibson was on drugs. He couldn't believe it and told her so. How could she believe some stranger over him? He tried his best to reassure her that he wasn't taking or selling drugs.

He couldn't tell her about the portfolio even though he was pretty sure that's what Brother Sebastian wanted from him. Instead, he told her Sebastian was a bad guy and she needed to stay away from him. But that's when she laughed, a nervous, slightly hysterical laugh. "Now you sound paranoid, Gibson. Isn't that something that happens when you take drugs?"

"Mom, I'm not taking drugs. You gotta believe me." But then he did lie and told her he'd be staying with a friend for a few nights. Truth was, he hadn't asked Timmy yet. It didn't make her happy that he wasn't coming right home, but she didn't argue with him. She wanted the friend's name and phone number, and when he told her he didn't know the number she insisted he call as soon as he got there. If she was this worried and suspicious from some made-up story that he might be using drugs, what would she be like if she knew he had gotten a priest killed?

He brought the mangled phone book from the pay phone back to his table. If he couldn't find Timmy's phone number or Timmy's mom wouldn't let him spend the night, Gibson wasn't sure what he'd do. There wasn't anyone else he could call. No one he could trust. No one, except maybe Sister Kate. She had sort of saved him once before though he really didn't like thinking about that day. He couldn't remember if it was the fourth or fifth time Monsignor O'Sullivan had called him into his office. Everything was such a blur every time he left. But one time Gibson stumbled into the hallway and ran right into Sister Kate. He was so embarrassed because his fly was still down. Geez! He could still feel the burn up his neck.

But she was cool about the whole thing. Asked if he was okay and when Gibson only nodded, she told him to go upstairs to her classroom and hang out for a while. She even told him to get a Pepsi for himself from her minifridge, from her private stash. He barely got to the top of the stairs when he heard her below, stomping down the hall to the monsignor's office. Gibson waited there, half leaning over the rail, listening, but he didn't hear Sister Kate knock, just a slam of the door and then muffled voices. It sounded like they were arguing.

He didn't realize until weeks later that Monsignor O'Sullivan didn't call him into his office after that day. Gibson was so relieved it took him a while to realize that Sister Kate must have said something. And then, of course, he was embarrassed that Sister Kate might know. But she never said anything to him, never treated him differently after that. Gibson hadn't thought about that day for a long time. He didn't like thinking about it. Brother Sebastian made him feel afraid and weak just like Monsignor O' Sullivan always had. He didn't like that much either.

There was no Kate Rosetti listed in the phone book, so Gibson searched the H's for any Hamiltons within three or four blocks of his own address. There was a Christine Hamilton on Cass Street just a block north of Goldberg's. That had to be Timmy's mom. He memorized the number.

He had no idea what time it was. Goldberg's didn't have a clock anywhere. It had to be late. Was it too late to call Timmy? Would his mom be so pissed she wouldn't let him come to the phone?